


Warm Welcome

by MacBeka, OKami_hu



Series: Various Welcomes [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Blowjobs, Cuddling, First Kiss, First Time, Frottage, Grateful kisses, Happy Ending, Light BDSM fantasies, Lovebites, M/M, Making Out, Marking, Oral Sex, baby-face Hawke, blabbering Hawke, body embarrassment, handers - Freeform, one of Anders' many escape attempts, roleplay turned fic, self-consciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-28
Updated: 2015-09-28
Packaged: 2018-04-23 20:18:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4890700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MacBeka/pseuds/MacBeka, https://archiveofourown.org/users/OKami_hu/pseuds/OKami_hu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anders has escaped again. He finds himself hungry and cold and wet when he stumbles across a farmstead, where he ends up full and warm and wet for a whole different reason</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warm Welcome

**Author's Note:**

> I'm shit at summaries, please forgive me. This is a slightly edited version of me and Okami_hu's first roleplay together. I love it, and I hope you do too!

Cold.

So, so damn cold, so blighted cold! Anders shivered, squirming in his still-damp robes. At this rate, he’ll catch a cold that’d kill him eventually!

Another day, another escape attempt. This latest one seemed to go well so far; he was far enough from Kinloch, at some village - Lothering, if memory served him well. And no Templars in sight!

Unfortunately, the free life had hardships aplenty; last night, Anders was caught in a drizzle, with no shelter in sight, not even a tree. He burrowed underneath some bushes and got thoroughly soaked. Now it was almost midday, but the weather remained cool, and his clothes refused to dry. He was frozen to the marrow of his bones, limbs shivering, teeth chattering and he was hungry.

But Maker strike him down if he turned around; he was going to make it this time!

He pushed on, across fields, sometimes launching into a run hoping that the exercise will warm him up a little. He needed a barn, a stable, something warm and dry… Oh, a fire would have been perfect, but the smoke could betray him. He was essentially trespassing; these lands all belonged to some farmer or another, who probably wouldn’t take kindly to a fugitive Circle mage traipsing around.

By now, he reached an area with somewhat denser vegetation and he almost considered settling down and burning half the neighbourhood, consequences be damned, when he spotted the farm. A well-built main house, a barn farther away and a lone cow grazing peacefully, not even that far from where he stood. Anders swallowed. He still remembered his home village and that cows give milk, warm and sweet, just perfect to fill an empty stomach. Well, a fugitive can’t be picky. He carefully advanced, keeping an eye on his surroundings, prepared to make a dash if someone appeared. But the land seemed almost deserted, perhaps the family was gathering inside for a well-deserved meal.

The cow was a calm beast and quite nonchalant about the robed human creeping up at her. Anders carefully touched her back, caressing the warm hide. The heat underneath his clammy palm was almost scorching and the young mage couldn’t help it, he pressed up against the animal’s broad side, soaking up the warmth.

“Betsy old girl, you have my gratitude,” he mumbled, eyes drifting close. The cow smelled foul but Anders was willing to tolerate it.

"Her name's Matilda," Hawke interrupted, watching this stranger.

The basket of firewood inside was running low so he'd volunteered to gather more while Father was tilling one of their small fields. He shifted his weight onto one leg and cradled the bundle of small logs on his hip. The frightened yelp and wide-eyed terror told him something was wrong with this man.

Hawke looked the stranger over more thoroughly, taking note of the bedraggled hair and soaked robes. This was a bit far, even for the Templars, surely? No Templar would be caught dead in a mage's robes, from what Father had told him. Besides that, he had been prepared to suckle from the cow, he was clearly starved. He eyed the staff on his back curiously. Mage's robes, a mage's weapon? Either he was foolish enough to wear such clothes in public, or...

"If you're hungry, I'd rather you didn't molest the cow. She's sensitive that way."

“Ah, um, I just--” Anders blushed to a fetching shade of crimson. “I was just chatting her up, you see? It’s not my style to violate a lady.” He cleared his throat. “I'm sorry - looks like I ran out of coin to rent myself a room, and travelling is a hassle… Got caught in the rain last night, forgive me for using your cow as a fireplace. I don’t want trouble, really. I’ll be on my way. Pleasure to meet you.” 

He began inching away. The lad was younger than him, by quite a few years, but also much taller and broader, a true farmer's son. Formidable muscles were shifting underneath his simple shirt and while Anders admired strong men, the boy could probably easily wrestle him down, perhaps even break his bones… Of course, he was probably no match for magic, but Anders would have loved to avoid escalating the conflict to that point. Spells were a dead give-away of a mage and people, let’s just say, did not like mages.

"You know..." Hawke mused, stroking his growing beard before gesturing around wildly. "I hear there are mage sympathisers around here, the dastardly fools. Possibly even actual mages who, upon meeting a handsome stranger who might have been - perhaps - assaulting the cow, would invite a fellow mage in for something to eat. Odd, is it not?"

Hawke grinned and turned to walk back towards the house, if it could be called that. He hoped his rambling had made at least some semblance of sense. He called over his shoulder:

"Would said stranger care to join?"

He headed into the house, leaving the front door open for the mage to come in if he chose to. Carver had taken ill in the night and Father hadn't been able to heal it, so Mother had taken him into the village. Of course, Bethany had demanded to go with them. The house was empty.

Anders nearly failed to follow. The boy-- Surely he was just joking or setting a trap even, he couldn't be-! How would he live with his family still if he bore the same curse as Anders?

He still stalked up to the door, gripping the door frame and peeking inside, a bit like some frightened animal, eyes darting from left to right, trying to sense danger.

“You really mean it?” There was a hearth inside and a table that had a jug and bread and some apples; Anders’ stomach gave a rumble. “A relative of yours is in a Circle, perhaps? Listen, I really, really don’t want trouble, I’ll be quiet, promise, I’ll be off come the morrow, so no need to call the Templars on me, I swear… But I'm really starving and I’d be so thankful for a few bites...” 

He was almost whining and he knew it, and he hated himself a little because of it. He was prouder than this, but hunger was not something he had the chance to grow accustomed to. If anything, at least mages were well-fed in their prisons.

"'Turn you over to the Templars'," Hawke scoffed, rolling his eyes. He placed a few logs in the fireplace and sent sparks of flame through his fingertips to dance over the wood and set it alight. "As if a family with three apostates could risk calling the Templars."

Hawke stood from his crouch with a sweet smile, eyes glittering from the candlelight and fire in the room. This handsome mage still looked cautious, though his eyes had widened at the display. He strode into the small cooking area and started slicing the fresh loaf of bread, spreading butter over the pieces with a blunt old knife. He placed all but one side of bread onto a plate and put the last into his mouth, holding it between his teeth while he cut lengths of cheese and meat from a chicken slaughtered yesterday. They joined the bread on the plate and he pushed it towards the blond man, leaning back against the work surface.

He took a moment to admire the face streaked with dried rain and dirt. Beneath the grime was a handsome face, elegant and regal, red-gold hair pulled back into a scruffy ponytail. Even his hair had a sheen of care, as if he'd taken good care of it. He must have been a few years older than Hawke, but the dirt marred him.

"I assume you're a runaway. I'm Garrett Hawke."

Anders worried his teeth over his lower lip, but he inched closer, settled down and pulled the plate closer. The faint scent was enough to make his mouth water and he finally abandoned caution, taking a big bite from the bread. Still, he took care to eat like a civilized being - he was not some scruffy blood mage, after all!

“They call me Anders,” he introduced himself between two bites. “Thank you for the food. If what you say is true - three apostates, and they still haven’t burned down the entire village, really? There’s still hope for me it seems! I'm just trying to disappear and I won’t stay; I'm endangering you all. You’re a brave young man, Garrett.” 

He smiled at the boy. He was probably around eighteen; his body was an adult’s, but his face was still soft and honest, despite the efforts of growing a proper beard. That’d take a while, but he was definitely going to mature into a rather dashing fellow. Suddenly Anders felt less cold, but the fire crackling nearby might have had something to do with it, too.

"We're careful," Hawke shrugged. "For starters, you'll want to ditch your robes and staff. Tend to be a dead give-away, even to non-mages. It would be a shame to see such a pretty apostate recaptured by Templars. My father could probably give you some better tips. He was an escapee, once upon a time." 

Hawke smiled as he watched Anders try to remain neat in his eating, no matter how hungry he must have been. Thankfully, hunger was never a thing he had become familiar with; there was always a farm to tend, there was always a chicken or two, a cow, something that could be used for food if they couldn't grow crops. If they ever had to up and leave because of Templars or anything else that threatened them, there were a few weeks of little food while they got settled again. Father, Garrett, and even Carver - as whiny as the boy could be - were capable of hard work under a beating sun. Often, it was in exchange for livestock or seeds, as no one has much coin to barter, not in the rural villages that they favoured.

"You should get your robe off so we can hang it in front of the fire to dry. Especially if we can't find anything else for you to wear."

“Just give me a blanket and I’ll be content to sit near the fire,” Anders sighed. “I'm frozen.” To illustrate his point, he sneezed. “Nngh- I hope I won’t catch a cold… You can’t heal that with magic!”

He stuffed the last bites into his mouth then stood to undress, prying off layer after layer. “You’re right about the robes but-- I’d rather not steal. It’s just not me, you know? Perhaps in the next city I can find some odd job, earn some coin. Your father is sure managing well! He must be a great guy. He’s definitely raising a great son, to say at least.” He threw Garrett a mischievous smile, smoothing his hair back. Just a bit of innocent flirting never did any harm.

Garrett was staring. He was– Yeah, he was definitely staring. And blushing now too. Anders was beautiful. He was used to the broad bulk of farm boys, but Anders? Anders was thin and pale and  _gorgeous._ It would be a crime not to stare, surely? He realised he hadn't replied yet and blurted words out, stuttering and stumbling over every sound.

"I- uh, th-thank you. As for g-great sons, you haven't met my brother, he's- Maker, I could kill him half the time, he's not so great." The laugh was strained and flustered, and Hawke was blushing more and more with every word. "You could always be a p-prostitute. There are never enough beautiful whores. I mean, um, so I've been told."

Garrett was no doubt bright red by now, brighter than his face had any right being, especially considering the twitching in his cock at the thought of Anders all dressed up. Within a second, he had a fantasy all set up. Thank the Maker that living in close confined for all his life meant he could control himself a bit more, and the long leather tunic he had on covered anything incriminating. He hoped.

The long-fingered artist hands stopped in mid-motion and the softly shining eyes the colour of aged whisky suddenly grew colder than midwinter frost. Anders sucked in a sharp breath and straightened. 

“Excuse me!” he didn't ask; he exclaimed. Also glared, more pointedly than Mother did when she was angry, and that definitely was a feat.

“I’d rather die than to sell my body for coin. Even if it pays well-- the mere idea is disgusting!” He huffed and turned toward the fire, toeing off his short boots. “I suppose it was meant as a joke, but it wasn't exceptionally funny. By the way, I'm sure that your muscles would be just as sought after in any brothel.” 

The nerve! Though… the terrible blush didn’t avoid Anders; the boy was probably just embarrassed and babbling but still. Thankfully, the warmth did a lot of good to Anders’ mood; he wiggled his toes, the heat of the flames lapping at them.

"By the Maker, I'm sorry, I didn't mean- I mean, I don't- I'll just shut up and hope that the Void swallows me whole. Preferably now, now would be good," Hawke groaned, burying his face in his hands.

Honestly, you'd think he'd be able to control the words coming out of his mouth for once in his life, and now not only had he insulted Anders, he'd embarrassed himself in front of him. The glare and fire in Anders' beautiful eyes was terrifying when turned on him, and he really hoped that he'd be able to fix this, some way or another. He groaned softly in frustration and leaned forward to bang his head on the work surface in front of him.

"I'm a terrible person," he grumbled, hoping that Anders didn't just electrocute him as punishment for being so... Garrett.

It would be written on his gravestone:  _Garrett Hawke, died being his usual embarrassing self and murdered by a sexy mage._

Although, maybe he was just being dramatic.

“Hm.” Anders drew his arms around himself and glanced at the boy in agony. He was kind of cute… Not very bright, but cute.

“I’ll forgive everything if you get me a blanket. I'm standing here in my smallclothes and a pair of socks and while I know I look good, I'm still cold.” He sneezed again and groaned, crouching down and pushing as close to the fire as he just could, without getting burned. “Blight it, I'm going to die from inflamed lungs. But, at least I’ll die free.”

"I can do some healing so you might not die," Garrett joked, hoping that he didn't insult Anders again. 

He hurried to his bedroom and grabbed the blanket off the bed, bundling it up to take to Anders. The wool of it was rough on one side but smooth - as smooth as wool could get - on the other from near enough a decade's worth of use.

"Here," he said, thrusting the blanket out in front of him.

When the blanket was removed from his hands, he picked up the sodden robe and draped it over a rack in front of the fire

Anders wrapped himself into the wool like some furry caterpillar and crouched back with a contented sigh. Now he was fine. With a full belly and nicely warm, all he had to take care of was not to fall asleep.

“Thank you,” he nodded to Garrett. “You’re too kind. Sheltering me could get you into trouble… As soon as my robes dry, I’ll be off. Come to think of it, where’s your family? And you can heal, really?” A smile tugged at his lips. “I'm a healer, you see. About the only good thing about the Circles is that they teach you how to use your powers right. Minus the 'basically just never use them if you’d be so kind’ part.”

"It's not much, just the basics. I specialise more in elemental spells. There are a lot of, uh... More interesting uses." Hawke coughed self-consciously. "My mother and sister are in the village with my ill brother and my father's working the field. He'll probably go to see them in Lothering, so I have the house to myself."

Garrett blushed a little more at thoughts of what he and Anders could get up to all alone. He clamped down on the train of thought; he barely knew this man, why would they do anything?

He'd never been attracted to the other boys in Lothering either. Sure, he'd noticed them and-- of course he'd peeked when they all went swimming, but there wasn't this fire behind the curiosity. But with Anders? He couldn't stop wondering what it would feel like to kiss him. Would he be soft and supple like Peaches when he'd stolen a kiss behind the stables? Or would he be rough?

Garrett was pretty sure he was staring again. Anders had such beautiful lips. They were pink like a girl's, and plump, chapped where he'd bitten at them. Okay, he needed to stop staring at Anders like he was a gift from the Maker. To direct his attention elsewhere, he sat beside the older man and prodded the fire with the poker, just for something to do.

“I see; I hope it’s nothing serious. Your brother, I mean. I'm sure he can be annoying but siblings can have your back,” Anders said wisely. “I still can’t get over the fact that you’re a mage. I've never thought it’d be possible, for one to marry, have kids - three of them! - and raise them, teach them… Then again, it might be just the experience talking.” He hesitated for a moment then quietly added, “My father gave me to the Templars when I was twelve. Been kept in the Circle ever since. You’re so damn lucky to have never known it, and I honestly hope you never will.”

"Your father just-- He handed you over, just like that?" Hawke asked, eyes wide as he turned sideways to look at Anders in disbelief. "Family is supposed to care about you, not hand you over to some-- some jailer looking for people who are just people!"

Garrett huffed and frowned, staring at the fire as he thought. A crease appeared between his eyebrows as he scowled at the flames as if they had personally wronged him.

"Family doesn't do that," he finished decisively.

“Not an apostate’s family,” Anders pulled the blanket tighter over himself. “My father was a simple man, who had been told in his entire life that mages were monsters sent by the Maker as punishment for their sins. When it turned out that I was one of those monsters… he was terrified. My mother did not agree, but… there was little to do.” So much time have passed since that day and it still hurt. Anders swallowed.

“Don’t doubt me when I say you’re lucky, you’re special. You have everything - family who’d support you, a teacher and freedom. Most mages only ever know hatred and stone walls… The First Enchanter had to fight to  _let us outside_  from time to time. There are Templars following our every step, you can’t hide from them, they keep watching no matter what you do… And I mean it. Some mages can’t take it. I have seen bodies.” He stared into the flames, shivering despite the warmth. Was it a wonder that he wanted to get out?

Hawke was quiet for another moment before he awkwardly reached out to push Anders' hair behind his ear. Despite being wet and stuck to his face, it was still beautiful.  _He_  was beautiful. He smiled softly, hopefully reassuringly.

"Now you're out. Maybe once you get settled in a normal life you could think about getting others out," Garrett suggested with a grin. "We could do it together. My father doesn't talk much about how he escaped, but he told us about what it's like in the Circle. Enough to scare us into behaving, anyway. He was in Kirkwall. Apparently that's one of the worst."

Anders cringed. The gentle gesture was welcome, but the words reminded him of more losses. “A friend of mine was sent there a few years ago. Maybe I should go there… if I can avoid the bloodhounds on my trail… I miss him. So much. He was a really…  _good_  friend.” 

He briefly closed his eyes as Karl’s smiling face surfaced in his mind; his warm hands, his voice, whispering sweet things into his ears. He was torn from Anders when he needed support the most and it hurt. Circle mages didn't fall in love, of course, but… if it wasn’t love, it came pretty darn close.

“Kiss as many people as you just can, Garrett,” Anders murmured into the blanket’s edge absent-mindedly. “Love as many as can. For the others who don’t dare.”

"You and him...? I didn't... I didn't know men could do that. Is that common? I've never heard the other boys talking about it, but Lothering is hardly the capital of romance, or... Whatever." Garrett huffed a small laugh at his own expense and smiled. "I've never kissed a boy before. I kissed Peaches once, mostly to get back at Carver for something or other. She was... soft. What's it like?"

Garrett pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his cheek on them so he could look at Anders. Anders' face was turning a pale pink from the heat of the fire, but he looked a lot better than he had when he'd come in.

He also looked at Garrett with those lovely eyes of his and then laughed, his cheeks turning a deeper shade of pink. “Ah, I'm sorry, I-- well. Circle mages have to make their bleak lives more tolerable somehow, you see? So despite the Templars watching, they get into conspiracies and forbidden debate and-- they kiss each other. From what I hear, it’s not that common, after all, men and women are made for each other but… You eventually run out of girls in a closed building. And if you’re friends with someone, especially in shared misery, you can get curious. My friend and I-- yes, we kissed… a lot.” He was grinning, shamelessly.

“It’s a little different from girls but not that much. Boys tend to be a little firmer, rougher.” He couldn’t help it. He squinted at Garrett. “How curious are you?”

Anders couldn't have been- Hawke didn't believe that Anders was offering. Here was a man who was no doubt experienced, and he was offering to kiss Garrett. It was too... Ludicrous. But at the same time, he  _was_ curious; not just about kissing boys, but kissing  _Anders_. He had the slight scruff of a few days without shaving on his chin, and Hawke couldn't help but try and imagine what it would feel like against his skin. For the first time, he wished that he didn't have a beard, just so he could feel the full scrape of it against his jaw.

He swallowed hard, eyes flicking down to firm pink lips.

"Very," he whispered.

“So young and impressionable,” Anders chided but there was a fondness in his smile. Garrett was definitely a good-looking kid and what harm would a kiss do? Plus, he always got a little drunk on freedom, chasing pleasures.

“Well then… I should repay your kindness somehow and since I have nothing else to offer, I’d gladly assist you in sating your curiosity.” Anders turned a little toward the boy, shaking the blanket looser, so it fell from his shoulders a bit, revealing his collarbone and leaned closer, eyes half-lidded, lips slightly parted and freely offered for sampling.

Garrett moved awkwardly, setting one hand down between them to support himself a little more as he leaned forward a little more. He paused an inch from Anders' lips for a moment before he let his eyes shut and leaned forward, pressing their lips together. He hummed softly in appreciation of the warmth of Anders' mouth, moving his lips in time with his slowly.

He couldn't help himself as he brought his other hand up to Anders' face, smoothing down his hair before his fingertips trailed down his throat and followed the line of his collarbone. The skin there was soft, delicate even, where it was stretched over elegant bones. There were soft freckles and the occasional mole underneath his fingers as he moved along the length of Anders' shoulder and down his arm to his hand, tangling their fingers together automatically.

Anders smiled against the other’s mouth as he felt those tender touches. The boy was a big softie and Anders couldn't bring himself to mind. He parted his lips invitingly, the tip of his tongue flicking out against soft flesh. A small moan topped it all, reverberating in his throat. Garrett was warm, warmer than the fire and Anders arched forward to soak up the heat. He wasn't going to do anything… complicated but maybe… Maybe.

Garrett felt a tingle in his lips at the first touch of Anders' tongue, which turned into a full-body shiver at the sound of the little moan. He'd never gone this far, he didn't know what to do. The way he moved his tongue was awkward, too far at first before he pulled it back, letting Anders take over. His hand had tightened around Anders' as he felt the first thrum of arousal in the base of his spine. He couldn't hold back his soft whimpers and gentle whines as they kissed, his other hand coming up to tangle in blond hair.

Anders decided to throw caution to the wind. He wrapped both arms around the boy’s shoulders, relishing in the security of his bulk and not caring that the blanket slipped off, revealing his entire upper body to the cool air. He couldn't even really feel the cold.

Garrett was obvious a little short on experience so Anders took the opportunity to educate his eager pupil; he indeed took the lead, tangling his tongue with its counterpart gently, mapping out the insides of the boy’s mouth while cupping the back of his head to guide him to a better angle. His pale skin flushed further and a lazy fire began to flicker in his guts.

Perhaps the boy wasn't that off the mark with that earlier comment, albeit Anders wasn't about to do something like this to anyone. But a fellow mage, who was also rather handsome? Sign him up.

Hawke revelled in the feeling of Anders' thin arms wrapped around him. The firm press of his chest made Garrett want to tear his tunic off to feel more skin against his. He moved his hands, sliding them up either side of Anders' spine to hold him close as he lowered him to the ground. The sheepskin rug was warm with the heat of the fire, and Anders must have been cold with how little he was wearing; Hawke covered his smaller body with his own,

The feeling of a wet tongue curling around his was too good, too hot for anything less than the slight erection in his leggings. He sucked on Anders' tongue as he pulled back and nibbled on his bottom lip before attaching his mouth to the pulse point of Anders' throat. The soft groan he got for the action drove him forward, kissing down and up the column of his neck before kissing his lips again. This time he didn't hesitate in flicking his tongue into the mouth under his.

Trying to remember what he enjoyed, Garrett shuffled them slightly until he had a free hand. His fingers went straight to one of Anders' nipples, already firm from the cool air around them. He rolled it between his thumb and forefinger, tugging slightly.

It earned him a gasp and Anders arched his back, then stared at Garrett with a bit of surprise and a lot of approval. “Wow, I didn't think you’d be this bold! You're a little inexperienced with kissing but good with touching.” His smile broadened into a sly grin. “You are rather familiar with your own body, aren't you? You naughty boy.” He laughed and gently ruffled Garrett’s dark hair. “That’s a good thing, if you, perchance, find out you have an inclination towards boys. What feels good to you will most probably feel good for them.” He turned more serious then.

“Listen… I wouldn't want to push you into anything but… If you’d like to, we can... take this a little further. I'm fine with it.” He missed this. He missed Karl’s weight on top of his body, the heat, the freedom in pleasure. His hands slipped to Garrett’s waist, tugging on his tunic to be able to slip under the fabric and touch bare skin.

Garrett has blushed at Anders' light teasing, but the embarrassment disappeared the minute Anders touched him.

"Please," he murmured.

He knelt up and tugged at the laces of his leather tunic until they were loose enough to pull the thing over his head. Hawke had been the first of the village boys to start growing body hair, and it always made him self-conscious. The dark curls on his chest were soft but... What if Anders didn't like him? What if Anders thought he was unattractive? He fidgeted now, blushing more and tugging at a loose thread on the tunic in his hands, focusing his eyes on that rather than Anders' face.

“How old are you, anyway?” Anders questioned, suddenly not quite sure. The body before him was muscled, just a touch roughened from hard work; simply gorgeous. Garrett was going to turn into a grizzly bear of a man in a few years who could wrestle bulls and chop wood with bare hands. And he was a mage to boot! Thedas better get prepared for a walking force of nature.

“You've got a blighted fine body,” Anders confessed, running his hands over the broad expanse of Garrett’s chest. “I've never seen anyone who had magic being so strong! If you learn to fight as well… Maker, you’d be a one man army!” 

The earlier worry of the boy pinning him down merged into a need. Anders wanted to be pinned down by those arms, legs nudged apart roughly and-- he would have enjoyed being taken without mercy, fingers pulling his hair and bruising his hips- His steadily developing erection gave a twitch at the thought and Anders swallowed. He was honestly sorry that it was not going to happen. This was not the time, nor the place. Maybe if by some miracle they’d meet in a few years, Garrett a grown man and him a free mage… Ah, wishful thinking. There wasn't much of a chance for that. But Anders wanted to enjoy the moment instead of dwelling on fantasies.

Garrett relaxed with a sigh and smiled a little, blushing more at the praise.

"I'm seventeen," he said as he set the tunic aside and looked over Anders slowly, taking his time.

Anders had a dusting of fine pale hairs over his chest and in a teasing trail down into his smalls. Maker, he wanted to kiss down it, down to a cock that was no doubt as gorgeous as the rest of him. The outline of it in his smallclothes was taunting, daring him to reach out and pull them down.

"I want to- I- Maker, I can't even say it." Garrett laughed softly at himself. He took a deep breath and forced the words out too quickly. It was unlikely Anders even heard. "I want your cock in my mouth."

“Hey, hey, slow down, champion,” Anders blinked in surprise. “Not that I have anything against it, but- Are you sure? It’s kind of sensitive down there and if you accidentally bite me, I won’t be much fun anymore, not to mention spunk isn't for everyone to swallow… But, if you really want that…” He swallowed. “J-just go on slow and careful, okay? And maybe we should get up from the floor for that? It’d be easier.”

"Is that something you want? I mean, I don't- If you just... Tell me what to do, I'll be okay," Garrett stammered, hoping that he at least got the message across. "I've, uh..." The blush spreading across his nose was almost scarlet. "Tasted myself before, so uh... Yeah..."

Why was he so bad at this? Not just  _this_ , but the whole talking thing? He wanted to rewind and let Anders lead. There was just something about the other mage spread out so perfectly under him that stopped his thoughts. He wanted to see Anders face when he came. He wanted to hear his soft little gasps and moans. Maker, he  _wanted_.

"We can go to my room," he volunteered after a few moments.

“That is actually a splendid idea.” Anders got up, pulling the blanket around himself. “Garrett, listen. I'm like seven years older than you and my big brother instincts just kicked in. I want you to enjoy this. This is your lucky day - you've got me. Whatever you want to do, just say so and we’ll work it out. If you really want to- blow me, I-” He had to swallow. “Maker, please, yes, do it. And if you want to, I can do the same for you. Let’s go, we’ll be more comfortable there.” He smiled at the boy and leaned closer to kiss his flushed cheek.

“Lead the way. I can’t wait to see you naked.” His own arousal was getting hard to ignore.

Garrett bit his lip and pulled Anders close, gripping the backs of his thighs and stood up with the other mage in his arms. He laughed at the yelp and carried him to his bedroom, laying him down on the bed. His hands slipped underneath the blanket to stroke Anders' ribs. They slipped down until his fingertips were on the hem of his smalls.

"Can I?" he asked, looked down the length of Anders' body, to where long pale legs were splayed over his thighs. He grinned widely.

“S-sure.” Anders was still stunned. He wasn't particularly heavy but-- the boy just picked him up as if he barely weighed a thing! He needed to make sure he was finally free then come back and do a few more things. Pleasurable things.

But for now, he was content to follow the plan. As Garrett pried the garment off, Anders lifted his hips to make it easier. His erection bounced free from the confines, flushed and eager.

Garrett's breath caught in his throat at the sight of Anders' cock. The tip of it was dark pink and he couldn't help but reach out to touch, trailing the tip of his finger down to his balls, which he rolled between his fingers curiously. Anders' soft moan was music to his ears. It made him want more.

He wrapped his hand around the other mage's cock and stroked slowly. The angle was different than when he did this to himself, but he figured that what he liked, Anders would like, pretty much anyway. He twisted his wrist over the head and rubbed his thumb over the slit, smearing the drop of fluid there.

It seemed Anders was the vocal type; he moaned and gasped and whimpered in delight, his fingers grabbing the blanket underneath him tight. The boy was a natural, no doubt about it.

“F-fuck, Garrett…” he panted, his thighs squeezing the boy’s waist. “The Maker loves me… I’m glad we met- Ah! T-too bad we can’t- Take off those pants already, I want to see you!” His eyes blazed with lust. “I bet you have a delicious cock.”

Garrett knelt up a little more, his hand still stroking Anders' length as he tugged at the laces of his trousers with one hand, pushing them down and kicking them off as best as he could. He ended up overbalancing and all but falling on top of Anders, catching himself on his elbows before he could crush the poor mage. He laughed slightly as himself and kissed Anders again, moving up for a better angle, unwittingly bringing their cocks together.

He gasped and moaned, burying his face in Anders' neck. His hips jerked slightly, rubbing their cocks together as he mewled, mouthing at Anders' skin to distract himself.

That little sound reminded Anders that no matter how mature he looked, Garrett was still adorably young. Old enough to share his bed with someone though, so Anders wrapped his long limbs around the broad frame and rolled his hips.

“L-like this… this will be fine." He kissed Garrett’s temple and briefly wondered just how soft his hair was. “Fuck me,” he whispered into the boy’s ear and tugged on his waist to encourage him. He probably won’t last long but young people tended to recover fast.

"Oh, shit," Garrett gasped, reaching down to pull one of Anders' legs over his hipbone. He gasped at the new angle and gripped his ass, using his grip to control Anders' hips a little more. "Want you in my mouth. Want you to come on my tongue and down my throat. Want to fuck you afterwards. Oh- Anders..."

He was rutting against Anders almost roughly, nipping along his throat as his breathing became more ragged with every roll of their hips.

“Won’t that be a little too much for one go?” Anders laughed breathlessly, arching into the thrusts. He let his head roll back, exposing his throat to the eager lips. He didn't care even if Garrett marked him. Who was going to complain?

“B-bring yourself off and then- Then you can taste me.” With a wicked little grin, he fisted into the boy’s dark hair and pulled lightly. “I’ll make sure to give you a nice big load to sate your appetite, you bad little boy.”

Garrett whined at Anders' words, including the last little bit. He spared a brief thought for how much he enjoyed being called bad, but he soon forgot, too busy in thrusting against Anders sporadically, whining softly all the while.

"Can I mark you?" he asked, wanting to check before he went ahead and did it. He scraped his teeth along the length of Anders' throat, too light to leave a mark, but heavy enough to tease.

"I'm yours," Anders replied softly, the statement contrasting sharply with the previous teasing. 

But he really didn't mind. If the Templars noticed... He'd tell them proudly that he wasn't wasting his freedom. Plus, people seldom asked; Garrett was such a polite boy. Anders sincerely hoped that they'd see each other again, sometime in the future.

Garrett sucked a firm kiss on Anders' neck, licking and biting in turn, until he pulled away to admire his handiwork. He smirked happily at the sight and kissed Anders' lips again, speeding up his hips. He was close, so close that his whole body was tingling with need.

"Not goin' to last," he gasped against his lips, only moments before he came with a low groan and little aborted thrusts of his hips.

Anders just smiled, caressing the sweaty back, enjoying the weight on top of him and the warmth of his semen that drenched his stomach. He was nowhere near as desperate as Garrett was, but he had a lot more practice. There was plenty of fun in store for both of them.

“It’s okay,” he assured the boy quietly. “I’m assuming you enjoyed yourself? Catch your breath and if you’re ready for the next round, just say so.”

"Now I feel really inconsiderate," Garrett laughed self-consciously. "I didn't... I mean... Maker I'm really not good at this. Now I'm going to suck your cock and we can pretend that I didn't just come like a virgin. Which I am, I mean- Oh my god, I'm just going to shut up."

Garrett wasn't usually as rambly as he was today; he put it down to the gorgeous apostate underneath him. He slid down Anders' body, leaving kisses as he went, until he reached his erection. He licked a stripe up the hardness of it, watching Anders for his reaction.

“For the love of Andraste, Garrett, you  _are_  a virgin…” Anders moaned. “It’s  _fine_. Stop beating yourself.” The breath caught in his throat at the swipe of that tongue. “And you’re compensating nicely, yes… Maker bless, please keep it up.” He liked to use his mouth but he definitely never protested when subjected to the same courtesy. And with how eager Garrett was to please, it was bound to be a wild ride.

“Just be careful… don’t let your teeth graze the skin. You don’t need to take in more than you can and- I’ll tell when I'm close, you don’t have to swallow.”

Garrett nodded and pushed down the flutter of anxiety in his stomach. He could do this. He  _would_  do this. He would, but he decided he'd work up to it first. He mouthed at the base of his cock, kissing and licking, moving slowly up to the head, where he kissed the tip and wrapped his lips around it. Anders' moan was encouraging; he pressed his tongue into the slit, gathering the fluid there. It was bitter, but not unpleasantly so. He wanted more.

He let his eyes close and covered his teeth fully with his lips as he moved down a little more. He pulled up and pushed down a little further, again and again, until he swallowed and his nose touched Anders' skin. His eyes flew open in surprise and looked up at the other mage.

Anders seemed just as surprised, eyes wide and thighs quivering at the pleasure. “M-Maker’s breath… Garrett, you just took all of me in--” And he was blessed with a nice length, too, but the boy just swallowed him whole. For a single crazy moment, Anders considered hauling him up and drag him on the run; if they’d be caught at least he’d still have this talented lovely all for himself in Kinloch… But it only lasted for a moment; he’d have never allowed any free mage to get locked up because of him.

“T-try to swallow or hum, it feels really good,” he suggested, trembling fingers raking gently through the boy’s hair. The sight alone would have been enough to give him a hard-on, and since he already had one, his cock was pulsing with need almost painfully.

Garrett did as he said, humming softly around his length, pulling back up for air, still mouthing and licking at his cock as he panted. When his breathing was more even, he pushed back down on Anders' cock again and swallowed hard. He brought a hand up to roll his balls between his fingers, tugging softly, wanting to hear more of those sweet moans.

Anders' trembling quivering muscles included the ring of his entrance. Garrett touched it hesitantly, curious, but unsure whether it would be appreciated, or even what to do. Not for the first time today, he cursed his inexperience.

The loud, desperate moan probably meant good though as well as Anders’ back arching like a bow pulled tight. “Maker! You’re going to kill me-” The older mage’s long fingers tightened in Garrett’s hair. “Th-the patch of skin between my balls and the hole- rub that and- Oh Garrett, make me come...!” He had the hardest time keeping his hips still; he wanted to fuck that sweet mouth, that slick throat but he didn't want to startle the boy. Anders was getting rapidly closer to the peak anyway.

Garrett pulled up on his cock to suck at the sensitive tip as he began to rub his thumb firmly over the expanse of skin behind his balls. He wondered just what it was that had Anders wailing like that and made a mental note to ask, and try it on himself at the first available moment. He watched Anders as he writhed under his ministrations. There was pride to be had in this;  _he_  was doing this to Anders. Anders was almost sobbing with pleasure because of  _him_ , and he never wanted it to end.

This was some sort of dream, surely. He was still huddled under the bushes, probably dying from the worst cold, delirious from fever. Anders couldn't remember when he last felt so good, although thinking in general became quite a chore by now. His entire body was thrumming, his balls tightening an exquisite pain flickering in his belly…

“I-I'm going to- G-Garrett, I'm coming- I'm- I'm…” He honestly tried but pleasure was stealing his voice.

Garrett sucked harder and moaned as the taste of Anders' seed exploded over his tongue. He stroked Anders' cock slowly, trying to get every last drop of it. When he was certain that he'd got everything, he swallowed it down and pulled off, resting his head on his hip while he panted, eyes shut as he caught his breath. He licked his lips absent-mindedly, the faint taste of Anders still there. He hummed in appreciation of the salty bitterness and grinned, looking up at the other mage. His eyes were shut and lips parted as he breathed heavily.

He'd never imagined he'd be proud of reducing a man to a puddle of sensation - Maker, he'd never  _really_  thought about being with a man - but he was. He  _so_  was.

It took a few moments to gather his wits and Anders ran a hand down over his face, wiping off a few beads of sweat. A wild ride indeed! He was still trembling from the shock.

“Andraste’s tits, I- can’t even find the words! That was… extraordinary. You’re so good with this, you naughty thing, you.” He grinned at Garrett and attempted to tug him up, to cuddle a bit. He was a romantic like that.

“So- are you satisfied? How does it feel, to be initiated to the secret order of- man-lovers?” He snickered at his own words, but Maker, he was drunk on pleasure.

Garrett couldn't help his little chuckle, smiling as he wrapped Anders up in his arms, kissing him softly.

"It feels good," he grinned, his voice slightly hoarse from having a cock in his throat--a beautiful cock, though it was. "You taste really good. Did you enjoy it too?"

He was pretty sure that the moaning and the orgasm said Anders  _did_  enjoy it, but he wanted to hear it from his mouth. Plus, he was hoping he'd be able to do it again before Anders had to leave. He pushed aside the faint pang of sadness at the thought and focused on the present.

“Oh, I did, very much!” Anders nodded with much belief. “You’re lucky, Garrett. You’re handsome and talented, attentive… You’ll have to chase off people lusting after you with a stick, I bet. You see what sort of an effect you have on older men…” He snickered and kissed the boy’s nose.

“I hope we’ll meet again. I’d like to see you in a few years, even taller, even broader, with a beard… Maybe we could- have a few adventures together.”

"I'd like that. I don't suppose I could tempt you to spend the night with promises of a warm bath and a shared bed...?" Garrett asked quietly, fingers coming up to stroke over the lovebite he'd left on Anders' throat. "I can even make you breakfast in the morning?"

He thought it was worth asking. He liked this. The sex had been great, but he loved just holding Anders. The mage was thin, all long limbs and lean muscles, but he seemed to fit perfectly against his body. Plus, Garrett could make a mean omelette.

“I’d love to, really…” Anders sighed. “But I’ve already outstayed my welcome. Every minute I spend here in your bed is a minute less between me and the Templars… I can’t endanger you and your family. You can’t endanger them. The least those bastards would do is to drag you off into a Circle.” He shuddered. “I couldn’t live with that. Stay safe, stay free and- I’ll escape. Eventually. One day the Templars will give up and then I’ll come back to Lothering and look for you, okay? If you’re still up to it by then, we’ll find a nice haystack and probably brave the wilderness in search of adventure and treasures.” No matter how childish it was, he held up his little finger. “I promise.”

Garrett's smile returned to his fallen face at that. He wrapped his pinky around Anders' and kissed him softly.

"Alright. But you  _will_  take a horse."

When Anders started to argue, he rolled the other mage underneath him and cut him off with another kiss.

"Please? For me? Father got given one as payment helping on the farm next door. It'll only go to slaughter otherwise. There's no one around to buy it; farmers don't need an extra horse to feed."

Anders snorted. Even if it was just a little faster than walking then it was probably a good idea. The Templars did not walk.

“Fine, fine. I’ll take it. Now- while a bath would take too long, possibly you should heat a little water for a quick wash. I’m covered in sweat and other things. And now you’re just as filthy. Let’s go down, see if my clothes are dry and… possibly I can steal a few more minutes if you offer me a cup of tea.”

"I'll make as many cups of tea as you want," Hawke grinned. "But first I've got to clean you up a bit more."

He slid down to between Anders' knees again and slowly licked up the seed that he'd spilled over Anders' skin. When he was done, he kissed the base of Anders' cock with a smirk.

"We can't have you pottering around the house all messy now, can we?" he teased. "It just wouldn't do if I let you, and I am, of course, a gentleman."

“You are also an idiot sometimes,” Anders pointed out. “But an utterly adorable idiot. Let’s go. Now I need to wash of your drool, you overeager mabari…” His laughter took off the edge of the words though. Anders felt light, happy and hopeful, that he’d be able to fulfil his promise.

Later, when he was caught again, his heart bled, thinking of the boy; he just hoped Garrett wouldn’t wait forever. Still, Anders kept on trying and trying, and eventually he succeeded. And even though it took him almost a decade, eventually he found the Lothering farm boy again.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed :)


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